


Obedience

by BendyDick



Series: Moran's Brothel [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brothels, M/M, Punishment, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:16:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BendyDick/pseuds/BendyDick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is a slave in Master Moran’s Brothel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obedience

“I won’t have any slave of mine back talking the patrons.” Jim’s face flushed as Master Moran’s fingers pressed up into his arse. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything but she had been asking for it. It wasn’t in his nature to be a submissive cunt. “What did you call her slave?” Jim laughed but it came out more of a snort through his nose since his teeth were digging into the bottom of his lip. Moran’s fingers didn’t hurt, not really, Jim was already too stretched for that today but it was the embarrassment of it.

Master hadn’t even taken him to a room, just pulled him from the bedroom his client was in and pressed him against the wall. People were walking by trying not to stare and a few slaves were peeking from down the hall. Jim closed his eyes when a second finger was shoved in. 

“I asked a question.” 

“I told her-” Jim gasped as his prostate was jabbed by a nail. “I told her she was a stupid, gaping hole and the reason she couldn’t feel me was because she had taken too many dicks.” 

Jim could hear Moran snicker, clearly he agreed but business was business. “You deserve to be a gaping hole don’t you?” The slave didn’t say anything as another finger pulled his skin taught. Jim’s eyes began to water and he scratched at the wall. He wouldn’t give that fucker the pleasure of begging. 

Moran didn’t need it though. His fingers shoved up into the boy as high as they could, they wiggled and stretched causing the kid to rut against the wall in attempts to escape. Jim knew he looked pathetic, hand around his neck shoving his cheek flesh to the tacky brothel wall paper, legs spread wide to allow his master access to his arse, pants long gone and shirt pulled around the neck so it hung loose off one shoulder. He felt another finger press into him and finally it started to hurt. 

“Look at you, squirming away from me. Does it hurt?” Moran’s voice scratched down Jim’s neck and made him snarl. The bloody oaf didn’t scare him. No one scared him. “Propped up on my fingers.” The digits pulled out and slammed back up into the slave. “I am going to rip you open, leave you a sniveling mess on the floor because that slave, that is what you are. You are nothing but a hole. You are for our patron’s pleasure. You do not speak. You do not think. You do not move unless they or I tell you to. Nothing but a whore.” 

Jim hated himself when he whimpered but something harder than the fingers was pressing up into him. It was thick and unyielding, much different than a cock. It ripped his skin and left him silently screaming. He needed it out, wanted it out. Now. Now! 

“Ah-ah slave, you don’t get to run away from this. This is your punishment. Your training. I’ll make a good slave of you yet, trust me.” Moran hissed into Jim’s ear, body pinning him against the wall. 

“I-I’m no-not a slave!” 

“But you are. I bought you. A little Irish fuck now here to do what I want with. My little leprechaun.” Jim trashed against the other’s massive body but it only worked to hurt himself more. He could feel people’s eyes on them, watching them probably imagining being in Moran’s place. 

“Please sir, I-I’m so much mor-” The slave’s words were cut short when whatever was being shoved into him rammed straight up, knocking his feet out from under him and lifting him half way up the wall. Jim’s toes scratched at the floor trying to keep the thing from rupturing his organs as he whimpered. 

“I can make you beg.” Jim keened and stretched at the wall. Master’s walking stick, that’s what was being shoved inside of him; a thick thing, dark wood of some kind, probably Indian with a round knob at the top which was slowly working its way higher into the little slave. 

“I can make you scream.” Moran lowered the cane and Jim allowing him to reach the floor then jolted him right back into the air producing a blood curdling yelp from Jim’s lips. 

“I control you like a puppet.” Moran bounced the stick both up and down, jerking the tiny boy at the end of it and Jim gave in and nodded. “See, you can be trained.” The cane was lowered and Jim pressed his toes to the floor for stability. 

“What do you say?” Jim shook his head- stubborn to a fault. “What do you say?” Master’s voice managed to get darker and instead of just being infuriating it made Jim’s skin crawl. 

“Thanks.” 

“Thanks?” 

“Thank you master.” The cane was ripped from Jim and he slid down the wall to his knees. A hand turned him around so he was staring straight up into Moran’s grey-blue eyes that looked far too kind to for such a cruel sod. 

“I like you Jim. I see promise in you.” Jim retched at the words. “You are a brat though.” Master’s hand cracked across the slave’s cheek. “I will break you in and you will be mine.” The hand slapped across the other cheek leaving them both bright red. “Do you understand?” 

“Yes master.” It was too much work to fight. Jim could feel blood seeping down his thigh as a little reminder to be more careful next time, to hurt people in a way they couldn’t prove it was him. “Thank you master.” 

Moran smiled and held out his hand with the house ring on it. Jim’s eyes narrowed at the gaudy thing but pressed his lips obediently to it. His hair was ruffled and clacking footsteps echoed down the dimly light hall as Master walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like 30 minutes so I am sorry if there are mistakes. Just happy something popped into my head after this long stretch of writer’s block.


End file.
